I'll Be At Peace Before Too Long
by Llewellyn McEllis
Summary: Dream has loved and lost more than a million souls in the duration of his existence. When one who disappeared without so much as a goodbye returns, will he be able to let her go when his sister silently intervenes.


Dream, Death and all Sandman references are property of Neil Gaiman and DC comics. I read once that he thought people who wrote fanfiction were interesting, but sort of strange... I'm not sure if I am complimented, but I am appreciative that he allows others to explore his world on their own terms.

**I'll be at Peace Before Too Long**

"We really cannot keep meeting here like this."

He wouldn't deny that he was happy to see her, even though he hadn't been expecting her. It had been a long time since they had said goodbye, a long time since he had even thought about her. He should have known though. He had his ways of controlling things, manifesting those he wished to see, avoiding the ones he didn't.

"Remember, Morpheus," her mouth moved into smile. "That was what you said to me that night, the night you said you loved me."

"How did you find me?"

The flickering smile quickly faded from her lips. "I uh . . . I had some help."

The part of him that she had left wounded long ago lifted a guard against her, and like a cornered beast every part of him seemed to lash out. "If I find out who has helped you, I will not treat them kindly. I have no desire to see you. Nothing to say to you at all."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way." She had posed herself against the wall, just beside the grandfather clock that had often chimed away the dark hours in which they had spent endlessly entangled in each others arms. "After all we once shared."

"You were only one of many," he looked away then, knowing that this admission would hurt her more than he meant to, but the caged beast always won in situations like that.

"I know that," uneasy laughter accompanied her confession. "I would have been a fool to think that the master of all dreams had never loved before or after me." That same uncertain laugh again. "Hell, Dream, I'm sure you even had your share of those you loved while you were loving me."

"So is that why you came then? To badger me over past infidelities?" She started to answer him in that same calm voice, but he interrupted before she could answer him, all of his resentment bubbling forth. "You were the one who left. Here one day and gone the next. . ."

"So you blame me then?"

"Of course I blame you. I was there. I waited."

Even without looking at her he could see her shake her head. "It wasn't like I wanted to leave. It was my family. . . they were worried about me. All those days I spent sleeping just so I could be with you. . ."

"It is even less comforting to know that you allowed someone else make your decisions for you."

"It wasn't like that!" Her voice raised in pitch, a frantic attempt to make him see. "Dream, they took me away. They locked me up in an asylum and once they discovered that it was you I spent all of my time with, they wanted to separate us. They tried to tell me you weren't real, that vivid dreams were all just part of my sickness. . . my overactive imagination." Her head fell forward just a little, the length of her hair following like a curtain—only slightly parted for a preview of her face. "I couldn't fight them."

"You mean. . ."

"They took me away."

"But now you have returned." The edge of his hostility toward her had softened just enough that he now looked at her, but she withheld her gaze and roused his suspicions. "You have returned. . . haven't you?"

"Only long enough to say I'm sorry," she said. "And to say goodbye."

"Why goodbye? If you have managed to find me again. . . "

"I only found you because I asked for one last wish."

"I don't understand," he shook his head. "One last wish? What does that mean?"

"I am old, Dream," she whispered. "You see me as you knew me then, but I am an old woman now."

"No," he shook his head and turned his back to her, leaning over the chair in front of him so that his own hair fell now and hid his face away. "Why would you come at all, if only to hurt me again?"

"I came because I never stopped loving you." Her voice cracked with the ache of restrained tears. "They tried to tell me you weren't real, that you were only part of my psychosis. . . Only crazy people fall in love with their dreams. Please, Morpheus. . ." The sound of her feet across the floor echoed like a listless whisper and then her hand came down to rest upon his shoulder. "I have waited so long to see you again. My soul has known no peace since we parted, and my sleep has all been dreamless."

He marveled at the touch of her hand, at the way a lover's touch always seemed to have that persuasive power over him. He could be anything. He was the Lord of Dreams, and yet his lover's heart was far too easily persuaded. "And now?" He spun slowly and took her into his arms. "Do you sleep now?"

"Only for a moment or two," she said. "I'll be at peace before too long."

"Then let me make it up to you," he lowered his mouth against her ear, the warm shock of his breath sending shivers all through her. "One last dream before you go?"

She lifted her face against his. He only had to close his eyes to feel the movement of her smile. "I will go wherever you lead me."

And Dream took her away. To worlds no one but her could appreciate. . . into fantasies her own mind had been powerful enough to contribute to. . . they walked across the stars together, and wound up on the edge of oblivion where all of her dream wishes were made to come true.

She said to him that that one brief moment felt like a lifetime to her, but then she whispered, "Do you hear it? The sound of wings? It's like their closing in around us. . ."

Dream had lifted her into his arms and carried her forward hoping he might escape that sound just a little bit longer, but he stopped when the sound of those wings would not be denied. He knew that the moment or two had passed away, her dream body weightless in his arms, and so he lowered her back to her feet and watched her slip away from him again. She had gone once more without goodbye, once more without even looking back, but who could blame her for leaving, with the promise of peace waiting for her in Death's outstretched hand?


End file.
